


Thanks For Making Me Believe

by WolfieQuiffy



Category: One Direction
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dubai concert, Fluff, Insecure Liam, Liam loving Zayn’s tattoos, M/M, Solo Liam, but then happy Liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfieQuiffy/pseuds/WolfieQuiffy
Summary: “Can I tell you something?” Liam asked, his voice verging on a whisper, suddenly feeling a little shy. Zayn simply nodded his head in response, offering a quiet, ‘yeah, of course love’.“There was a part of me that thought only a couple of hundred of people might show up when I first saw how big the venue was. Like I couldn’t get my head around how I could possibly come close to filling somewhere like this? But I did, Zed. A record crowd and ... and I’m kinda proud of m’self for it.”Or the one where Liam is relishing in the feeling of having just played to the biggest crowd of his life, when Zayn surprises him in more ways than one!





	Thanks For Making Me Believe

 

Liam was buzzing. There was no other way to describe it.

Adrenaline thrumming through him like he’d never known before—which was definitely saying something considering all the amazing things Liam had been lucky enough to experience over the last eight years. It is, after all, pretty hard to beat performing to millions of fans all around the world.

As Liam stood in his vast dressing room, his first solo show in Dubai having just wrapped up, he found himself dumbfounded. Eighty five thousand people? All there for him? Little Liam James Payne from Wolverhampton. Fucking incredible!

And so a thought occurred to him in that moment, the genesis of which likely coming from a recent home repair of all things, where Liam had managed to fix a hole in their bedroom wall (a result of a particular energetic bout of lovemaking with Zayn, something they were both rather embarrassed about after the fact) with some weird space invading foam that his Dad had given to him.

A spontaneous musing that the sheer, unadulterated joy he was experiencing was so all encompassing, that if it could somehow magically take on a solid, corporeal form, it would become overwhelming; growing and growing until it eventually escaped the confines of this room and spread throughout the entire venue, imparting that same feeling of pure joy to everyone in its path. A ‘Joy Space Invader’ if you will. A strange analogy, Liam had to admit to himself, but it seemed the most fitting way to illustrate just how elated he felt in that moment.

It also inevitably left him wondering, _Could it get any better than this?_

Moments later and still basking in the unabashed thrill of performing, the memory of the crowds cheers ringing in his ears, Liam had an answer to that eternal question. Completely in his own little world, Liam felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around in surprise, having been under the false impression that he was all alone.

“Zayn?” Liam gasped in shock. “What? What are you doing here?”

“Well that’s a fine welcome,” Zayn teased, in reply. “You might try to sound at least a _little_ happy to see me, Li.”

“You menace,” Liam admonished jokingly, making a point to take a posturing stance, hands placed very deliberately on his hips. “You know I’m always so happy to see you, I just didn’t expect it to be here and now. How did you even get in here without me knowing?”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think _someone_ was so away with the fairies just now, he didn’t hear me come in. But then again, I’m not really surprised, considering you just performed to hundred and ten thousand fucking people!” Zayn exclaimed, grin becoming ever wider with each passing word as he stepped forward and cupped Liam’s, still blushed from performing, cheeks.

Liam cocked an eyebrow in response to Zayn’s puzzling words. “What are you on about babe? I mean not to say that I don’t appreciate you exaggerating the crowd numbers, but I think you’ll find it was only eighty five thousand—not that it matters much I guess, cause it’s blooming amazing either way, innit?”

That familiar fond smile of Zayn’s appeared then, his love ever apparent (he was the one ‘who always wore his heart on his sleeve’ after all) as he tightened his grip on his Liam’s face. “It is blooming amazing, isn’t it? You’re blooming amazing Li. I’m so, so proud of you babe and whether it’s one hundred and ten thousand, eighty five thousand or a million even, it don’t much matter does it? Cause whichever way you look at, you’re smashing it and I’m never going to stop reminding you of that.”

And with that bold and adoring statement still ringing in Liam’s ears, Zayn tugged his face forward for a long overdue kiss, his fiancé not wasting any time in flicking his tongue ever so delicately on the edge of Liam’s bottom lip, prompting him to open his mouth as he gladly welcomed a deepening of the kiss. Their tongues tangled together almost immediately, soon settling in to a familiar, but as always exquisite dance, as they took turns hungrily licking into each other mouths, both clearly keen to rekindle their enviable sexual connection.

“Wow. That was quite some kiss, Mr. Malik,” Liam marvelled when they finally pulled apart, his lips feeling slightly swollen from the veraciousness of their kiss.

“Straight back at ya, soon—to—be Mr. Malik,” Zayn replied with a smug and knowing wink. “But can you blame me? I’ve missed you so much over the last few weeks. Please tell me we’re not going to make a habit of being away from each other for that long?”

“Well if I have anything to do with it we definitely won’t,” Liam assured, before pulling back slightly from the embrace. Lowering his head a little, he started to subconsciously rub nervous little circles against Zayn’s hips with his thumbs.

“Can I tell you something?” Liam asked, his voice verging on a whisper, suddenly feeling a little shy. Zayn simply nodded his head in response, offering a quiet, ‘yeah, of course love’.

“There was a part of me that thought only a couple of hundred of people might show up when I first saw how big the venue was. Like I couldn’t get my head around how I could possibly come close to filling somewhere like this? But I did, Zed. A record crowd and ... and I’m kinda proud of m’self for it.”

And he was. Proud of how far he’d come, firstly from those early, often challenging years growing up in Wolverhampton, where he’d first committed to making a go of a singing career; through the amazing whirlwind that was the six year phenomenon of One Direction and finally from the moment he made the decision to pursue a solo career, despite some initial reservations (which in insight seemed so very much unfounded); to here in Dubai, performing in front of a crowd larger than any the band had ever played to. Proud might have been a foreign word to Liam once upon a time. But now? There really wasn’t any other way to describe how he was feeling.

“Hey? You still with me, baby?” Zayn asked, as he hooked his arms around Liam’s neck.

Liam looked up into Zayn’s beautiful, questioning eyes, his breath catching at the sight for probably the millionth time. “Yeah. I’m here. Never want to be anywhere but right next to you.”

“Good. Me too. And good that you’re proud of y’self, because I don’t know anyone who’s more deserving of this kind of success. You should always feel that way, love and I always want to be there, being a part of it, for the rest of your life. For the rest of _ours_. Love you, Li.”

“Love you too. So much, Zed,” Liam professed, arms snaking around Zayn’s waist. “And you better stick around for all of this. I’m not planning on doing any of it without you. It wouldn’t be half as fun!”

And with that he drew Zayn fully against him, wrapping him up in a tight embrace that, as always, he wished would never end. But end it must—although not for a good few moments—reluctantly pulling away when he realised he was yet to offer a proper Dubai greeting.

“Marhaba,” Liam whispered, placing a gentle kiss to Zayn’s lips.

“Oh, someone’s been brushing up on their Arabic,” Zayn jested, his eyes sparkling as his lips formed into a smirk.

Liam returned serve by waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly. “What can I say? I had a good teacher didn’t I?”

“You sure the fuck did! The best in fact,” Zayn joked, his eyes alight with a childlike whimsy— something they both took great delight in indulging in, whenever they reunited after being apart for any length of time.

“So teacher, did I say it right then?” Liam asked, one hand slipping under Zayn’s shirt for a cheeky tickle against his ribs.

Zayn pulled away abruptly giggling uncontrollably, always so ticklish but particularly sensitive in that area (which of course Liam knew, along with a myriad of others secrets only he and Zayn were privy to). “Stop it. Stop!” he pleaded, between giggles as Liam finally relented. “Yes. Okay, you pronounced it right. _And_ I was going to reward you for it, but now I’m not so sure you deserve it.”

“Oh don’t be like that Zaynie. I promised I’ll be a good boy from now on,” Liam pledged, full on pout on display as he drew his fiancé back into an embrace.

Zayn fixed him with a questioning gaze, before replying, “Well, I _suppose_ I might be able to ignore the tickling. And combined with the fact that you were nice enough to only wear the ‘infamous’ Gucci shirt last night and not during your concert, when you were performing in front of all those people—I guess it means you’re still deserving of a little something?”

“Oh. Someone a little jealous, are we? And don’t sell yourself short babe—your something is far from little,” Liam joked.

Zayn just shook his head in response, apparently deciding to ignore Liam’s attempt at humour as he asked, “So any reason why you didn’t wear the mesh tonight and miss an opportunity to show off the six pack?”

“Well you know what stylists are like. It doesn’t do well to wear repeat outfits and there’s always clothing deals to fulfil, so here I am dressed head to toe in some label I’ve never heard of. So are you disappointed at missing out on seeing me wear the mesh shirt in person for a _second_ time?”

“What do you think, Li?” Zayn deadpanned. “But also no, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed babe but I kinda want that view all for myself and, yes ...” A brief pause, as he moved his hand up to stroke down Liam’s cheek, “I do get a little jealous when I have to share my sweet baby with other people.”

“Well I’m all yours now, babe, so maybe I can give you a private showing later on?”

“Sounds perfect. And by the way I’m loving the thicker beard—it suits you. _A_ _lot_ ,” Zayn purred as he started to stroke along Liam’s jaw with his long, slender fingers.

“I hoped you might. I’m finally starting to catch up to you in how thick it gets when I let it grow out. It’s taken a few years, but I think it might have been worth the wait, don’t you?”

“Mmm. Definitely, babe. It’s gonna feel so good rubbing against me thighs when you’re giving me a blowie,” Zayn moaned breathlessly, as he none too subtly rubbed his cheek against Liam’s scruff.

“Zayn,” Liam whined, drawing his boyfriend’s name out dramatically. “You can’t be saying stuff like that with it being so long and all since we’ve been together. I might just have to have me way with you, right here and now.”

“Would that so bad?” Zayn queried, feigning innocence (as if!) with a gentle flutter of his ridiculously long lashes.

“Well yes it would actually because I want to take my time with ya. Explore all these new tats of yours and I can’t do that if we’re worrying the whole time about being interrupted,” Liam countered, pulling the top of Zayn’s shirt down to get a better look at the new tattoos on his neck and chest.

“Be a bit of a shame though to waste this gorgeous dressing room and this comfy looking sofa, don’t ya think, love?”

“Trust me if you think this is nice you ain’t seen nothing yet—my hotel suite is sick. And the bed’s far more comfy than this sofa and a lot bigger. Oh, and did I mention we’d be all alone.”

“Alright, Alright. I guess I can wait a little longer,” Zayn relented, before that ever familiar (and ever captivating) ‘tongue pressed behind his teeth’ smile formed on his lips. “So you like the look of me new tats then?”

A beaming grin split Liam’s face almost in two as he contemplated Zayn’s question. _Did he like the new tattoos?_ Is the Pope bloody Catholic would always be his reply. He loved almost everything about the man he was holding in his arms, but Zayn’s many and varied tattoos held a special place in heart and mind—they were not only beautiful and endlessly creative (just like the man whose skin they had found a permanent home on) but also represented perfectly Zayn’s own personal bastion of defiance to the world, as well as a mark of his individuality and anything that held such great meaning to his fiancé, automatically held the same such significance to Liam.

Getting to explore a new tattoo of Zayn’s was always something to look forward to, but lately there has been so many new additions, Liam felt as if he had been remiss in his rightful worship of them. _Time to remedy that_ , he thought, as he gently tilted Zayn’s head to the side and began to trace the most prominent of his neck tattoos, the red and black twenty five, with his finger.

“Love this one,” Liam muttered, as he lent in to place a gentle kiss over it, eliciting a small groan from Zayn. “Not only because it looks sick ...” another kiss, this one lasting a little longer. “But because no one but us knows what it truly signifies.”

He then traced a path of kisses over to the other side of Zayn’s neck, reaching the mandala tattoo that extended around his ear, where he couldn’t resist the temptation to give his ear lob a tiny nip. “And this one, baby ...” another kiss, followed by a gentle breath of air over the same spot—the reaction from Zayn stronger this time, his legs seeming to buckle slightly as his hold around Liam’s neck tightened. “I think this might be my new favourite. So eye-catching and intricate, but at the same time also so delicate. Beautiful.”

“Babe,” Zayn whimpered. “Babe. If you don’t stop what you’re doing, we’re going to have a problem that’s going to need attention right fuckin’ now.”

Liam reluctantly pulled away, resting their foreheads together, before playfully rubbing Zayn’s nose with his own. “Sorry. Got a bit carried away there. Just loving all these new tats, Zed. I think I’ve got a lot of catching up to do! And I haven’t even gotten a good look at the rose yet.”

“Well, come on then,” Zayn urged as he reached down to grab Liam’s hand, giving it a tug, before offering a cheeky wink. “Let’s get out of here so you can examine all of them from close up.”

“You’ll get no argument from me, love,” Liam enthused, giving Zayn a quick peck before letting go of his hand to turn back towards the bar. “Just let me grab my stuff.”

“Okay. Oh and by the way, Leeyum. You’re going to _love_ the new one on my ...” and Zayn was out the door before Liam got a chance to hear the last word.

“Zayn, wait up! Zayn! The new tattoo on your what?” Liam called out as he rushed after Zayn, slowing slightly when he felt his phone start to vibrate in his pocket.

“Hello... Hey, George. What’s up?...Oh. Umm yeah, no I’d like it to be something from me... No, sorry I’ve been a bit _distracted_ since the show wrapped up... Yeah, I’m not too worried about how we phrase the beginning but I’d definitely like to come up with what to say at the end—just not sure yet what would be best?”

Liam paused for a second in thought, looking to the left as he passed the door leading to the stage where he’d just performed to all those fans, and then straight ahead as he caught sight of Zayn’s retreating figure disappearing around a corner, at the end of the corridor.

And just like that, he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. I actually think I’ve just come up with the perfect way to end the video— _Thanks for making me believe.”_


End file.
